Chapter Ten; In Which The Wolrd Keeps Spinning

Face Front True Believers

Stan Lee

Three Days Later;

After everybody had surrendered, the Avengers managed to get on the phone with the president. He had some choice words for agent Toynbee. After that, the crowd of ghostly warriors began to disperse. They had some words with each other. Captain America gave Steve a friendly nod and a 'keep up the good work'. Wolverine turned his nose up at Leo. Then Leo stabbed him, and he admitted he wasn't the worst choice for the job. Daredevil gave Oceana a pep talk about not pushing loved ones away, and always making every day count. Spider-man talked to Sofia about power and responsibility, then gave her a few tips on how to outthink enemies instead of outfighting them. Deadpool… well, in the space of four minutes he managed to talk to Alex about everything from the importance of brushing teeth between meals, to how to kill a rogue Santa Claus without ruining Christmas, to the proper way to use a soup spoon, to who actually shot J.F.K., to catching bullets with a picture of Chuck Norris, to talking for hours straight without breathing. And then he talked for ten more minutes before the dead warriors went back to Valhalla.

Now, they were about to go out into a press conference. The president had been busy for the past day. He had to try and fix several issues with the law pertaining to superheroes, which proved difficult since none of the senators remembered anything about them. He had a pretty good handle on things for now, so the Avengers decided it was time to show the world what was going on.

Captain America sat on a folding chair waiting for the big reveal. Sandman and Thunderstrike were talking about finding the avatars for the three other pantheons and starting the Defenders. He'd told them it was okay, so long as the two of them were still in the Avengers.

Deadpool was talking about their superpowers to Chance and Angel. According to Hank's power sensors, Deadpool had the power to use the strength, speed, powers, or skills of anybody he beat in a fight. Scarlet Spider could teleport. Wolverine was all but indestructible. Daredevil could see a full minute into the future.

Daredevil and Wolverine were in a corner, talking. Daredevil was still fingering the ring which Wolverine had slipped onto her finger not too long ago. Scarlet Spider was next to them, making gagging noises whenever things got too mushy. Whenever she noticed, that is. She was far too engrossed in a comic book, The Night Gwen Stacey Died.

"Oh, don't look so sorry for yourself." Gwen said, coming up from behind him.

"I'm sorry." He said. "I didn't mean to depress you."

"Well you do." Gwen frowned. "You do realize we won?"

"I know." He sighed.

"No, you don't know." She said. "We. Won. Get that through your head. You overcame your obstacles, you beat Doom, you're exposing heroism into the world, you're about to inspire millions."

"But the Green Goblin is still out there."

"And you beat him once." She said. "Together. And when he comes out again, you'll beat him again."

Cap smiled. "Thanks Gwen."

"It's my job." She smiled.

"Public Relations agent for the Avengers doesn't require you to cheer me up." He said.

"It's my job as your girlfriend." She smiled.

He smiled back. "So… did you get the speech that I'm supposed to read?"

"The Avenger's address?" She grimaced. "Yes, I've got it."

"That bad?"

"Dreadful." She handed him a sheet of paper. He read it, and raised an eyebrow.

"This doesn't look so bad. In fact, this is great."

"That's because it's the speech I wrote to replace it." She smiled.

"You're the best Gwen." He got up, kissed her, and went to the Avengers.

"Alright team." He said, standing among them. "We've had a rough start. It feels like it's been a lifetime since we used to be the Nancy Street Gang. Ben died." He nodded at him. "Oceana got her eyes gouged out." He gestured to her. "And we all got beaten around like a group of rag dolls in a kindergarten playroom. But we survived. We won. And now, here we are, hopefully about to inspire a new age of heroes."

"Can we be action figures?" Deadpool asked. "I want my own action figure."

"Yes, we can all have action figures." Cap smiled. "Well, we're going to go out there now. And we're going to show the world that heroes aren't just confined to the pages of fiction. Chance, Angel," The two of them looked up, Chance with a pale face. "I know you feel like you didn't pass the old man's test. But you came through for us in the end. We would be honored if you would consider staying with the Avengers."

Chance was stunned for a moment, then grinned slightly. "If it's alright with you Cap, you won't hear me complaining."

"You're on in five guys." Gwen said.

"I just want you guys to know, no matter what happens, we'll have to keep fighting. Because if we give up, if we surrender, then all of this will have been for nothing. People need heroes. They need somebody to aspire to. If the old man hadn't come along, and told us about heroes, we'd still be a street gang, trying our hardest just to survive instead of reaching for our full potential. Now, it's our turn to show the world what true heroism is. That's what we've been fighting for; not to be heroes, but to be legends. Inspirations. And it will be hard, but as long as I live and breathe, I'll be right there with you." He smiled. "Now, what do you say we go out there and spread the legends of the Avengers?"

"All for one, and one for all!" Deadpool yelled, placing his hand in the center of the group. Cap put his hand on top of it. Then Scarlet, then Wolverine and Daredevil, then Thunderstrike, then Sandman, then Chance and Angel. And lastly, Gwen.

"You're on now Captain." She smiled.

Captain America went out, standing tall. On the other side of the curtain, a room full of press agents stared at him, and what seemed like hundreds of cameras flashed. The federal agent had finished his explanation to the crowd, his tale of mind-erasing technology, and comic book heroes. Some laughed at his costume, then they died down when they realized it was no joke. This was really a man wearing red, white, and blue, addressing an international audience. They whispered among themselves, wondering how far the FBI were going to go with this charade; this gimmick. Heroes weren't real.

Captain America stood at the podium, listening. He could hear their doubts. He could feel them. He had the same worries, the same fears. He worried he wasn't adequate. He worried that he wasn't worthy to represent his great nation. He worried that when the next crisis came, he would have a heart attack at the wrong second and die.

Then he thought; I'm Captain America. I don't care about any of that.

"Avengers! Assemble!"

The crowd froze as a sandstorm swept through the stage. It settled, and the Sandman materialized with a smile. A silver bolt of lightning shot out of the stage, and Thunderstrike appeared, walking into the stage in all of his glory. Scarlet Spider teleported Deadpool, Daredevil, and Wolverine onstage. Chance and Angel floated down next to them.

"Hello New York. Hello United States of America. Hello world. I'm Captain America. And I know what you're thinking; you're thinking this is a cheap trick. A publicity stunt. Actors, CGI, smoke, mirrors, strings, American propaganda, anything. You're thinking that we'd have to be anything but the truth; we'd have to be anything but Avengers."

"But we are, as you'll come to know soon enough. Every word Agent Maxwell has said, is the sincere and sober truth. And really, why shouldn't it be? Is it so hard to believe that heroes exist? Is it so hard to believe that good people can stand up to what they know is wrong, and refuse to back down? It's been done in the past; there is empirical evidence proving this. Disregarding comic books, disregarding myths and legends, you still have Washington, Lincoln, Joan of Arc, and a host of historical heroes. My friends and I were protecting people before we had powers, as do the police men, firemen, army and navy. All of these inspirational symbols of mankind, and it's so hard to believe that we're not some sort of con?"

"We are not here to claim to be your saviors. We are not here to make evil obsolete. Evil cannot be eradicated; it will always find some way to survive. But let me tell you this; so will good. Good endures as much as evil, and for every arsonist there will be a fireman, for every criminal a police officer, and for every bully insistent on preying on the weak and defenseless there is an Avenger, willing to protect them."

"We have been burdened with a great power. The power to choose whether or not to be a hero or a civilian. We could leave you be. Many people never have to choose to be heroes or not (Thank goodness). Some people can go their whole lives without an opportunity to rise or to fall. We have been given the power to rise beyond anybody's expectations. And we could let you go on, thinking comic book weren't real, living your lives the way you normally would. We could spare you the disbelieving looks on your faces right now. But we'd be lying, not only to you but to ourselves."

"If any of you saw a girl on the side of the road crying, wouldn't you help her? If any of you saw a man being tortured and could stop it, wouldn't you? If any of you could protect people who had no way of protecting themselves, why wouldn't you go in full force and save them? That's who we are. That's who the Avengers are. We're you, and you, and everybody and anybody who gets the opportunity to spit in the face of darkness, and takes the chance no matter how scared they may be."

"We are Avengers! We're here to climb the uphill slope! We're to help in situations where there's no more hope! We're here to avenge injustice and that's exactly what we're going to do! And as long as any one of us can still breath, the very pits of hell will quake in fear and the most hardened of criminals and the most deranged of sociopaths will flee in sheer terror, when they hear our call!"

"Avengers! Assemble!"

Las Vegas...

King Midas combed his golden hair with a 24 karat comb as he watched the news. "It appears troubled times are ahead my Enforcers." The mutant crime lord who could turn anything into gold with a touch turned in his swivel chair and eyed his Enforcers through his faceless gold mask. "At least we'll have the Hood's territory before we meet the Avengers."

Hook, Line, and Sinker nodded their approval. The Avengers would change things. But they'd be ready for it. Midas was always ready.

A Small Island In The Carribean...

Norman Osborn hefted the two-ton dumbbells over his head and set them down. He wiped some of the sweat off of himself and walked down his personal gym, past his pool, and onto the veranda of his private mansion. He laid back in a lawn chair, looking over the island he'd built for himself, down on the small village he ruled. He looked away from the sight, and to the lawn chair next to him.

There, empty, refurbished, and laid out on the chair, was his costume. The real one. The Green Goblin. Oh, how long had it been? He glanced at the two pictures hanging in the locker's door. Alex and Sofia. He rubbed his sides where the scars still hadn't gone away. He wished them luck and a long life, but if they got in his way, he'd have to kill them. And he wouldn't lose an ounce of sleep over it.

He began to laugh. A small chuckle at first, then building into a hearty cackle. He got up, pulling the Green Goblin's mask on, and looked out onto his island with his real face. He picked up one of his more expensive golf clubs and bashed the pictures off the wall. His laughing began to go quiet and he went back to sipping his martini with a grin.

WWE Headquarters...

Danny 'Big Bad' Wolff was tired. He'd bested everybody in the ring of honor. Everybody. His coach had to try and poison his food to fix matches, because it was so easy he'd get bored of pretending to be beaten and just get the match over with.

But now there was another challenge. This one was outside the UFC, but that was just semantics. Captain America. A worthy adversary.

A Dairy Queen In North Dakota...

Country singer Joe Wheaton and Governor of North Dakota, Francis Drake, rushed into the local Dairy Queen side by side. It was packed with famous faces, and everybody turned to the teenage girl working the counter.

"Fear not my loyal warriors." The girl's skin turned green. "The invasion will continue as planned. We'll just have to make some… alterations."

An Undisclosed Loaction In Los Angeles...

Robar, the last son of Atlantis watched the news through the window of the electronics store. He felt the Atlantian sting whip under his clothes. The weapon had belonged to his father before he died trying to save Atlantis from the surface dwellers.

Robar checked the hood of his jacket, making sure nobody could see his blue skin, and walked into Los Angeles, determined to have justice.

Somewhere South...

Marine combat boots walked across the wooden floor, crushing glass bottles in its path. "Come out children." A gray haired man said. "It's all right."

The small faces peeked out from behind the door. They couldn't see much in the low light, but they could see the exit and they could see there was nobody in their way. They ran.

As they left, Reverend Hawke put away his guns and watched the press on T.V. The Avengers were right. Somebody had to take a stand. He crossed himself and muttered, "Father forgive me, for I have sinned." He followed the children outside, stepping over the corpses of their slavers. Some men were past redemption. Some men just had to be punished before they can darken the world with more sin.

It's time for him to do the lord's work.

Mount Sinai Hospital...

Many times in ages past, Zeus had come to earth and born a son or daughter. Robert Johnson's great-great-great- grandmother, was one of those children. The blood of the gods ran through his veins, and he had shown courage where none was expected. He was to be rewarded.

Hephaestus fitted him with new legs and he got up from his hospital bed. Then Zeus struck him with a lightning bolt, and he rose from the ground, power flowing through his veins.

The gods of the East and the gods of the South joined in, spanning the globe in their searches for avatars.

The gods were coming back to earth.

The Savage Lands...

O'Challa prince of New Wakanda rode out on his velociraptor steed. In the middle of a field just outside the Savage land's northern borders and just shy of the great bear lake, princess Arsenal of the Inhumans waited for him.

He got off his mount and she pulled him into a kiss. They smiled and sat by the lake, discussing how to keep their families from fighting, and how the outside world was progressing. At one point, O'Challa got out a radio, and they began listening to Captain America's address. Looking out over the lake, they held hands. And they prepared for a better world.

Los Angeles...

Juggernaut landed the final punch on Jack Savage, leader of the street gang known as the Highwaymen. Once his mutant powers had been triggered, Cerebro had managed to pick him up in time for the X-men to stop him from robbing a jewelry store with his gang, but not from revealing himself as a mutant to his gang and now to most of Los Angeles.

"Well, about time." Juggernaut muttered, rubbing his knuckles.

Owlboy turned to the busted entrance to the store. "Company." He said. The police had arrived, and began to approach cautiously with some of the more inquisitive civilians behind them. "Here comes the mutant hating Jubilee warned us about. Brace for impact everybody."

They all waited for the wave of shouting and fear to come, but it didn't. Instead, one of the policeman slowly started to clap. Then his partner, and then the rest of the cops, and soon everybody outside of the store was cheering and whooping.

"What's going on?" Juggernaut asked, confused. "Not that I'm complaining but…"

Owlboy stroked his chin thoughtfully, and a grin slowly spread over his face. "Of course. That was in Jubilee's day. This new generation… they've grown up reading comic books about the X-men… idolizing them as heroes… they see mutants just like anybody else, except with superpowers." He smiled broadly. "This is a brand new day team. We don't have to hide any longer."

Chicago...

Red Raptor looked out over Chicago. If you'd told him two months ago that he'd be a superhero, he would have laughed. He was only fifteen years old, and he was constantly tormented by bullies for being the school nerd. He hated them. He hated them for thinking they could do whatever they wanted just because they were stronger. Well now he was stronger.

Ever since the class camping trip, where the bullies snuck him away from camp and tossed him into the river. How could they know it was a waste dumping ground for a shady chemicals plant? They couldn't. But they threw him in anyway, and now he had amazing powers.

Now he was the predator, the raptor in the skies, and the people down below who preyed on the weak and helpless were about to become prey themselves. Welcome to the cold steel jungle of Chicago. He was the top of the food chain.

He heard a scream for help and dislodged himself from the precipice, like a gargoyle come to life. And he protected the people from predators.

The United Kingdoms...

Stein looked up from his wiring. "There. Try it out now Gargan."

The withered old man stretched, and in his new Scorpion suit he felt like he was twenty again. "I got to hand it to you Stein, you are the single smartest idiot in the world."

"I aim to please." He twirled his wire cutters and slotted them into his tool belt. "How about you Todd?"

Mark Todd came out, dressed in a full black bodysuit with a red skull painted on the mask. "The blazing skull lives again!" He cackled wildly.

"Are you guys sure you want to do this?" Hermes asked them.

"I've got two years to live at most, and I'm not going to waste them." Gargan said. "Do it."

"Alright." Hermes pressed the button on his phone that sent the add to the yellow pages of the United Kingdom's phone book. "Heroes for Hire is officially back in business."

A Curch Triangulated Between Loch Ness, The Bermuda Triangle, and Stonehedge...

Alan Moore had recently return from his vacation in the fire pits of the seventh dimension to find earth in this new state of affairs. And he was pleased. He himself had turned down the role of Sorcerer Supreme, because he had found it took away from his 'me' time. He was glad it was in the hands of somebody who could properly protect earth.

He strolled into the Great Sky Cathedral, sipping wine distilled with blood from the heart of a Germanic fire dragon from a goblet made of the charred skull of Vincent van Gogh. Grant Morrison walked a short distance behind him, his vest filled of more gadgets than Batman's utility belt.

They walked into the old cathedral. "Well, well." Alan Moore said into the darkness. "If it isn't the Prince of Darkness himself." Morrison struck a flare and tossed it into the darkness. The grotesque gargoyles within scattered at the light, leaving only Joe Queseda to glare at him.

"Moore & Morrison. I knew you two were on my trail."

"Naturally." Moore smiled driely. "You should have checked the corpse twice. You know Rucka doesn't die easy. Now, on authorization of the Order Of Stan, We're come to take you in." Moore tapped his skull goblet with his finger, waiting patiently for Quesada to make his day.

He complied. "Very well then, come and have it." Joe chuckled. "But know, that when you choose to fight me, you face all the powers of hell!" He burst into flame, and a pair of draconic eyes glowed in the darkness.

The two smiled. "Hey do they always turn into giant reptiles?" Morrison quipped, taking a grappling hook and a flame gun from his jacket.

Moore gestured. "I'd assume it's for the theatrics. You have five minutes before I finish him off. Enjoy." As Morrison leaped forward, Moore reached into his beard, and took out a mystery novel. By the time he'd solved it, Quesada was screaming for mercy. It hadn't even been four minutes.

The Bon Chere Casino, New Orleans...

Remy LeBeau sat in his deathbed. "Well, would you look at that?" He rasped to nobody in particular. "My son's a hero. My son's an Avenger even! My son is on live television, telling the world that he's going to make it a better place. Heh. Never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Neither did I." A kind looking man in a black Italian suit sat by his bedside. He had long golden hair and a pair of large black wings. "You know, for somebody who has as many father issues as you do, you sure raised a great son. You should be proud."

"I am." Remy said, disconnecting his I.V. "So proud. Is it my time, reaper?"

"It was your time twenty minutes ago." The angel of death replied. "I just thought you'd like to see that."

"Thank you." Remy wiped the tears from his eyes. "Thank you. I appreciate it." He stepped onto the floor. His feet were suddenly covered in boots, and he wore the clothes he'd worn in his days as an X-man. He looked in his bedside mirror. He looked twenty again. He looked back on his decrepid body in his bed.

The wall to his room opened up, and a black limousine rolled into the room. "Normally you'd have to make the ride alone." The grim reaper said. "But… well, you try telling her something's against the rules." He opened the limousine door, and bright light shone into the room.

"Remy…" A voice whispered from inside the car.

"Mon Chere…" Remy LeBeau got into the limousine, smiling.

The grim reaper closed the door and turned to the television. "Good luck." He said to Cap. "Not that you'll need it." And he went into the drivers seat, and drove away.

C'est Fin

And they ask, "What is a Hero?"

though the answer's very clear,

He's the one who faces danger

when the darkness hovers near.

He will face the fiercest foe

when another needs his aid,

He will dare to defy Death

even though he is afraid,

He works not just for glory

and he does it not for gain,

But because he knows that others

will be spared a greater pain.

He won't always follow orders,

for he dares to answer, "Why?"

And unless he likes the reason,

he refuses to comply,

He will brave the battle boldly

even though he may not win,

He will face his fate unflinching,

for he is a Paladin.

And they ask "What is a Hero?"

though the answer's evident,

He's the one who faces death

knowing that his life's well spent.